Single Night, Double Trouble
by JamesLuver
Summary: Modern AU. Anna's Valentine's Day plans had not involved reeling in a stubborn Mary determined for revenge on Matthew. John had not envisaged he would spend the night trying to stop a rebounding Robert from completely spoiling things with Cora. But on the day for lovers, fate has a way of working things out.


**A/N:** Happy Valentine's Day!

This was inspired by a couple of prompts over at OTP Prompts. I apologise in advance for the length. Also for Mary's bitchiness. I suspect a subconscious part of me hasn't quite got over how much she irritated me at times during series six. Warning for a couple of swears.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

 _Single Night, Double Trouble_

Anna knew that it was going to be a bad day when she entered the office to find Mary Crawley standing by the window, glaring out at the dreary city buildings as if she would quite like to knock them all down.

"Oh dear," she said, dumping her bag on the desk and throwing down her car keys. "What's happened?"

Mary span around, fixing her with that same steely gaze. Anna almost wished that she would go back to laying every pagan curse she knew on the landscape. Still, she tried not to show that she was being affected, bustling around her space to collect the day's memos. There was never a dull day in the advertising section of Crawley's Publishing.

"That bastard's gone and done it!" Mary hissed, beginning to pace back and forth like an angry, regal cat. "I can't believe that he would!"

"Gone and done what?" Anna enquired, though she wasn't sure she should get too involved; since Mary and Matthew's recent breakup, any conversation about her best friend's ex was dangerous territory.

"He's gone and hooked up with some other floozy!" Mary hissed.

"Well, you could hardly have expected him to remain a monk forever," said Anna, then wished she hadn't—if looks could kill, she was quite sure Mary would have had her drop dead with the glare that she shot her.

"It's only been a few months!" she growled. "A few months, and he's already jumping into the sack with someone else!"

"How did you find out?" Anna asked tentatively.

"Edith is still friends with him on Facebook. Apparently he's changed his relationship status and tagged her in. Lavinia Catherine Swire is her name. Edith was practically crowing when she told me, you know she's so pathetic that she just loves it when anything goes wrong for me."

Privately, Anna thought that was a little uncharitable towards Mary's middle sister. While it was true that the two didn't particularly get along, Edith had matured a lot during the years and she was nowhere near as bitter as Mary still seemed to think she was. And Mary herself hadn't exactly been a saint. But she could understand some of Mary's ire. Her best friend was obviously still in love with her ex, despite the fact that she had been the one to end their relationship. She was simply far too stubborn to admit it, or indeed do anything about it. That was one of Mary's most frustrating qualities.

"So I assume you've looked at a picture of her?" she prompted. It seemed like it was ingrained in women to torture themselves when new girlfriends were involved.

"Of course I have," Mary grumbled.

"So what's she like?"

At this, Mary deflated a little. "Honestly? She's gorgeous. She's got a very lovely face. I'd say she's the complete opposite of me in every way. Looks like he's trying to run a mile."

"Maybe it won't last. It might be a rebound thing. You said yourself, he can't have been looking for too long."

"Oh, who knows." Mary straightened herself; Anna could see her physically pulling her invisible armour back on, ready to face the world once more. "Now, what are your plans for tomorrow evening?"

Of all the line of questioning, Anna hadn't been expecting that. Warily, she asked, "Why?"

Her friend rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Because it's Valentine's Day. I assume you don't have plans. You haven't had a date in _years_."

Anna flushed at the assessment, but lowered her eyes and said, "Well…no."

"Excellent. I'm going to organise something for us and the girls. We can go out, have a good time. Maybe even meet up with a few guys in a nightclub."

"Oh." Anna's heart sank. "Does it have to be tomorrow night? Can't we do something tonight? It's supposed to be that Galentine's Day thing, we could go out and celebrate that."

Mary wrinkled her nose. "Why on earth would I want to celebrate being single?"

"It's not about celebrating being single. It's about celebrating your female friends."

"Can you imagine me having to celebrate _Edith_? No, we're going out Valentine's Day and that's that."

Anna shrank at once. There really was no arguing with her best friend. And there was no way she could beg out of it either—no excuse she could come up with would be good enough now, and she wouldn't even believe her if she said she had a date. Which she couldn't blame her for. It _had_ been years since she had last had a date, to Mary's knowledge. Mostly because Anna was happy to focus on her career for the time being, but also because most of the men her age were absolute nightmares. The last thing she was interested in was repeatedly telling someone no while they continued to paw at her dress and leer that they could show her a good time if she would only let them. Mary might be willing to tolerate it, and even seek it for a night of revenge on Matthew, but it was not her scene.

Still, she could hardly let Mary go alone. Mary was reckless at the best of times. She'd landed herself in hot water years ago by sleeping with a business associate of a rival Turkish company, and Anna had been the one to come to her rescue, giving Mary an alibi for the night in question when her father had hit the roof. At least if she was there she'd be able to stop her best friend for doing anything too stupid.

"Oh, all right," she sighed at last. "You win. We'll go out. Let me know the details later when you've decided exactly what you want to do."

For the first time since she'd walked into the office, Mary smiled. Reaching out to squeeze her hand—it wasn't Mary's style to do more affectionate embraces—she said, "Thank you, Anna. You're an absolute darling. I knew I could count on you."

It almost made her smile in return. She loved her best friend despite her often unmanageable fancies, but that didn't take away from the fact that she was having to change her whole expectations for one of Mary's mad whims.

"I know," she sighed. "Now give me a minute and I'll be right down to work. I've just got a phone call I need to make."

* * *

John knew that it was going to be a bad day when he entered the office to find Robert Crawley standing by the window, glaring out at the dreary city buildings as if they were singularly responsible for everything that had recently gone wrong with his life.

"Rob?" he said uncertainly, setting down his briefcase. "Everything okay?"

Robert span around, a fearsome scowl darkening his features. "Does everything look okay to you?"

John stood his ground. In all the years he had known Robert, he was well-accustomed to his bursts of temper. "Well, I'm not a mind reader."

Robert's shoulders slumped. "You're right. I'm sorry."

John reached for one of the chairs, sitting himself down in it. "So what's wrong?"

Heaving a great sigh and looking as if he had aged ten years in the last few seconds, Robert ran a hand through his hair.

"It's Cora," he whispered. "We met up for a talk last night. It didn't end well."

"Oh, Christ. I'm sorry." And he was. Genuinely, truly sorry. For as long as he had known his best friend, Cora had always been there. From twenty they had been a double act. Robert hadn't been perfect in the beginning—indecisive about his own feelings, he had taken an unlawful amount of time to figure out that she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with—but Cora had always been patient with him. John had seen a lot of this during their time in the army, where the two of them had become closer than the brothers that neither had ever had. However, it seemed now Robert had taken one step too far.

"Yeah, well." Robert collapsed into the seat behind his desk, defeated. "It's over now. She made that quite clear when she walked out the door."

"But what happened?"

"Said she'd had time to think over what had happened and couldn't bring herself to forgive me. I was nearly begging her on my knees in front of everyone, but she still walked out of that door."

John grimaced. He felt truly sorry for his best friend. In all of his life, he had never seen two people as right for each other as Robert and Cora. And yet, the fault lay with Robert. No one had forced his head to be turned by Jane, the pretty, single mother who had started working on the creative team at Crawley's Publishing House. No one had forced him to kiss her. He had promised vehemently that it had gone no further than that kiss, but by that time it was too late. Cora had walked in on them, turning up unexpectedly to surprise him with dinner and tickets to the opera house, and had refused to believe that a full-blown affair wasn't taking place. John believed that Robert was telling the truth, but he did not blame Cora for her reaction. Robert had been very stupid indeed, and if he wanted Cora back, then he would have to work hard for it.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

Robert shrugged helplessly, fishing in his pocket for a packet of cigarettes. Pushing open the window, no doubt to offset the fire alarm, he flared one up and offered the packet to John. John shuffled uncomfortably.

"Not for me, thanks," he said.

Robert raised a surprised eyebrow. "What?"

"Trying to stop. Health kick and all that."

"Come off it, we've smoked together for twenty years."

"And I don't want to die of lung cancer."

Robert eyes him suspiciously. "Suit yourself. You'll be begging me for one by the end of the day."

He wouldn't be begging, but he wouldn't deny that it had been incredibly difficult to give up the bad habit that he'd started on his sixteenth birthday. Many packets of mints had been bought and consumed in an attempt to stave off the cravings. He hadn't slipped off the bandwagon yet (a sly one here and there hardly counted), but it was certainly no walk in the park, especially since he had smoked more since he had given up drinking six years before.

But he wanted to be a better man.

Still, he had to turn away from the sight of Robert exhaling smoke out of the window, feeling the tell-tale itch of addiction at the back of his mind. Taking out his pen so that he had something to keep his hands occupied with, he repeated his question.

"I have no bloody clue what I'm going to do," said Robert, then turned to eye him suspiciously. "Why? Is this your way of telling me you want me out of your home?"

"Of course not. You know you're welcome to stay for as long as you need to get yourself back on your feet. You were a great help to me when I first split with Vera." And he knew that it had been difficult for Robert to maintain the balance between helping him and keeping peace with Cora. Cora had always been rather distant with him, and she hadn't been thrilled when he had turned up on their doorstep with nowhere to go and no job to his name, wondering how he could convince people that the war wound that had never fully healed wouldn't be an impediment to his work. He could have gone to his mother's, but Vera was unpredictable at the best of times, and he'd wanted to get out of London for a while and lie low. Robert's Yorkshire retreat had been the perfect place, and he had fallen in love with the area, in no small part down to the people who occupied it. He still travelled down to London often to check in on his mother, but Yorkshire was his true home now.

"Then what are you trying to say?"

"Just…don't give in so easily. I know Cora loves you very much."

Robert's lips twisted bitterly. "Then you know nothing. You know what she told me yesterday? That there's some other man. A Simon Bricker. Works for the local council, some kind of arty-farty building surveyor with a passion for the arts. Apparently he wants to take her out to dinner, and she accepted. My wife, out to dinner with another man."

John hadn't been expecting that.

"Maybe she's just testing the waters to see how serious you are," he said tentatively. "Making you work a bit harder to get her back."

"No, I think she's serious. But two can play at this game."

It was Robert playing this very game that had got him into this situation in the first place, but John settled for slipping a mint out of his pocket and popping it into his mouth.

"So I've made my mind up. We're going to get some of the lads together tomorrow night and we're going to go out and have a jolly good time."

The words almost made him choke on his mint; whatever he had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been that.

"What?" he said hoarsely when he had swallowed with great difficulty. "What do you mean, 'we'?"

"Exactly that. You and me, hopefully Joseph and Charles and perhaps even Thomas, we're all going to go out tomorrow and get bloody smashed."

"It's Valentine's Day tomorrow," John pointed out, his horror growing. "We can't go out tomorrow."

Robert sighed, as if he was explaining something simple to a very stupid child. "Yes, we can. That's the whole point. We're all single men, and we can all go out and do as we please. And if we find someone to have a bit of fun with along the way, all the better for us."

"But that's not going to help you with Cora, don't you see? Stay in tomorrow. Or go round to Joseph's or something. Call in for takeaway, watch an old movie."

"I've told you, Cora's made her decision. And that's fine, if that's what she wants. So I'm going out tomorrow night because I'm a single man once more. And you're coming with me whether you like it or not. I mean, what were you even going to do tomorrow? You were going to take the train all the way down to London to sit with your mother. Which is great, I admire the way you look after her, but you've been divorced from Vera for four months now. It's time to get back in the saddle. You've been a monk for long enough."

"No, really, Rob, this isn't a good idea."

"Don't be such a spoilsport. There's no arguing with me on this one. We're going. And I bet by the end of the night you're thanking me on your knees."

John huffed in frustration. It was irritating that it was always so impossible to argue with his best friend. And, realistically, how could be wriggle his way out of it? Saying that he was going down to London to see his mother was a big enough stretch as it was. And it wasn't as if he could barricade himself inside, not when Robert had a key. The last thing he was interested in was repeatedly telling Robert that he wasn't interested in whatever woman he tried to fling his way—or worse, having to tell a woman directly to her face. He wasn't delusional, he knew he wasn't the best looking bloke in the world, but when someone was impaired by alcohol anything could happen. He had no wish to have someone's cleavage thrust into his face. He wasn't twenty anymore. More than that, he didn't even drink himself. He could see no fun in being surrounded by intoxicated people wherever he looked.

Still, he could hardly let Robert go alone. Robert could be a helpless mess at the best of times. He'd hit a sticky patch when he'd gone against everyone's advice and invested money into a venture that was sure to fail, and he could be easily influenced by his feelings of injustice. That was what had got him inti this sorry situation with Jane and Cora in the first place. The very last thing he needed right now was to end up having a one night stand that John was sure really would be the final straw for Cora. At least if he was there he'd be able to stop his best friend from doing anything too stupid. Joseph was nice, but he didn't have much backbone behind him.

"Oh, all right," he sighed. "I'll do it."

Robert beamed at him. "Good man."

"Now, you'll have to excuse me. I've got a phone call to make."

Robert waved his consent, and with a heavy heart, John dragged his feet out of the room.

* * *

Anna sighed, eyeing reflection in the mirror. Nothing seemed to be going right, and it was only seven fifteen in the evening. Along the hall, Mary was in her own room, preparing herself for a night of drinking and dancing. And here she was, still clad in knickers and bra, wondering what on earth she should wear. The February air was typically cold, and while she didn't fancy freezing to death, a short dress and high heels was absolutely expected.

Sighing, she pulled out a little blue number, one of her favourites for sentimental reasons. It just didn't feel particularly right wearing it tonight.

Still, what else did she have?

Pulling it over her head, she settled herself back in front of her vanity, ruffling her hair. Down tonight, she decided. Less messing. Make up never took her long; she had always favoured a natural look. A spritz of perfume, and she was ready. Grabbing her stilettoes and bag, she left her room and crossed over to Mary's, knocking once before entering.

"Are you ready?" she asked her friend.

"I am," Mary confirmed, fixing her earrings. "Taxi's booked for eight. We should wait outside."

Steeling herself, Anna nodded. Together, they walked out, locking the door behind them and travelling out of the building, standing shivering on the street corner. Anna was already regretting her decision not to bring a coat.

Mary waved it away, though she was shivering just as hard. "You won't be needing that when we're inside the club. Now come on, let's go and have a good time, and score a couple of devilishly handsome men."

Anna tried to smile, but inside wished she could be anywhere but here.

* * *

John sighed, giving himself a doleful once-over in the mirror. Nothing seemed to be going right, and it was only seven fifteen in the evening. In the living room, Robert was already dressed, and was sitting with his feet up on the table, handling his first beer and watching the football match he'd taped earlier while he waited. And here he was, still only in his boxers. He didn't have many clothes suitable for a night out.

In the end he opted for a pair of jeans and an open neck plaid shirt. They were his go-to clothes, but he'd been told in good faith that they looked good on him. Not that that felt like a good thing tonight.

But what choice did he have?

He swept his hand through his hair one more time—much to his chagrin, the usual strands fell back over his forehead—and squirted a healthy dose of aftershave for good measure. With that done, he went downstairs.

"Ah, there you are!" said Robert jovially, knocking back the remaining dregs of his beer and fumbling for the standby button on the TV remote. "You ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," John replied, not without a trace of trepidation.

"You'll have a blast. I said we'd meet Joseph and Charles at the Grantham Arms. We should be setting off soon, otherwise we'll be late."

Hardly a catastrophe in John's opinion, but he picked up his jacket from the back of the settee and pulled it on. Robert patted his pocket to ensure he had his wallet and then sauntered out of the room.

Grimacing, John followed him outside into the bitter cold.

* * *

The thumping of the music was rather giving her a headache.

Anna sat in one of the leather booths in the upmarket club, chewing on the end of her straw as she nursed her third coke of the evening. She rather wished that she _could_ unwind, have a few drinks to let her inhibitions go. But she was the designated sober body for the evening, and she would have all on keeping the others in line. Ethel was already on the way to being very drunk, and Gwen and Daisy were slightly tipsy, both flushed red and giggling into their glasses. Mary was the worst of all. Having drunk almost a full bottle of wine to herself, she had proceeded to order a third and was glaring sulkily into the dregs that remained in her glass. Thankfully, she had decided against inviting her sisters along. Anna was grateful for that—the last thing she'd wanted to do was referee a verbal sparring match between Mary and Edith.

"Wish someone would ask me to dance," Mary muttered. "Wanna dance."

"I'll dance with you," Daisy offered helpfully.

"I'm not sure that will work, Daisy. I need a _man_."

"I'll dance with you, Daisy" said Gwen. "Come on, I like this song."

Daisy brightened, taking Gwen's hand. Together they moved towards the dance floor. Ethel followed them seconds later, still clutching at her glass. Being a single mother didn't give her much room for meeting new people, she'd bemoaned often enough. When she did have the opportunity to let her hair down, she made sure she didn't squander it, and she wasn't above asking a man to dance for herself, as seemed to be Mary's quibble.

Once they were alone, Mary heaved a huge sigh, crossing her arms and slumping forward on the table, narrowly avoiding sending one of the glasses strewn across the top hurtling to shatter on the floor.

"This sucks," she said, voice muffled and barely discernible above the belting music.

"This was your idea," Anna pointed out.

"Don't let me have ideas ever again. I'm really bad at them."

"I'll remind you of that when you've got your heart set on setting fire to Matthew's shirts."

Mary shifted enough so that she could glare at her with one eye. The effect was rather dampened by the fact that she could barely focus. Anna stifled a smile, patting her best friend's head affectionately.

"Get up and dance," she said. "You don't need a man for that. You turned Daisy down but you can't turn _me_ down."

Mary tried to glare for a moment longer before conceding defeat with a sigh, holding out her hand. "Oh, go on then."

Anna set her drink down and slid out of the booth. Making an exaggerated bow, she took hold of Mary's hand and asked, "May I have the honour, milady?"

"You may," Mary consented in her best regal voice. Anna pulled her to her feet and guided her towards the throng of dancing men and women. She caught a glimpse of Gwen's red hair as she and Daisy jumped around in circles. Ethel was just behind, having enticed a dark haired man away from the rest of his friends; Anna saw them looking on enviously as she wrapped her legs around him and kissed him enthusiastically. Sorting that would have to be her next job. God, she should get paid for this.

As the music swelled, Anna held onto Mary's hands, encouraging her to bounce around. Mary groaned at the sensation, falling forward with her full weight, almost making her stumble over.

"Don't have the energy for that," she groused. "Makes my head hurt."

"Maybe I should take you home, then," Anna said. She was only half-teasing; it was impossible for her to put any of her plans into motion, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the thought of putting on her comfiest pyjamas, grabbing a large bar of chocolate, and putting some corny romance on the box while Mary went to bed to sleep off her binge.

But Mary shook her head defiantly against her neck, her voice muffled. "No. I'm not leaving until I find a man."

"If you say so," Anna sighed, smiling despite herself. She swayed with her.

"I love you, you know."

"I know."

"Dunno what I'd do without you."

"I don't know either," Anna laughed, accepting the sloppy kiss her friend pressed against her cheek. "Now come on. Let's have a good time, and sod Matthew Crawley. He doesn't know what he's missing out on."

Mary nodded, beginning to pull herself away. "You're right. Fuck him. Don't need him. Let's have a good—oh my God!"

"What's wrong?" Anna asked, frowning.

Mary wasn't listening. She was staring at something beyond Anna's shoulder, a look of horror upon her face. Instinctively, Anna knew. Mary wouldn't look like that for anyone else in the world. Matthew must have just entered the club with Lavinia. It was Valentine's Day. There was no reason why he wouldn't be out enjoying himself.

" _Papa!"_ Mary groaned.

Papa?

Anna whipped around at once, almost hitting Mary in the face with her hair. Her heart began to speed up at once, pounding wildly against her ribcage.

Because it was _true_. Robert Crawley, Mary's father, had just entered the establishment, looking a little worse for wear, followed by Joseph Molesley.

With John Bates bringing up the rear.

Anna's temperature shot up several degrees.

 _John._

He looked morose, as if he was completely out of his comfort zone and would give anything to be anywhere else. He was keeping his eyes focused straight ahead, obviously trying to avoid making eye contact with any drunk women who might affix themselves to him. He had once told her that he was horrible at letting people down, and preferred to avoid the inelegance at any cost if he could. His initial bumbling awkwardness when it had come to romance was one of the things that had endeared him so fiercely to her.

" _Hide!"_ Mary hissed behind her; she had almost forgotten that her friend was there. "Oh my God, we need to get out of here! I can't be seen in the same place as my _papa_! I'd never recover from it. Get the others and let's find somewhere else to have a good time!"

"But—" Anna began weakly. This changed everything. _John_ was here.

Mary glowered at her. _"Anna, do it!"_

Mustering a scowl in return that she knew Mary would be too drunk to remember in the morning, she conceded defeat and slipped around her. The others were still dancing, happily oblivious. She did not relish the challenge of prising Ethel away from her prize. She knew what they called Mary behind her back— _Lady_ Mary, always wanting her own way, even when others wanted something different. Most of them only tolerated her because Anna liked her so much, but she knew that they couldn't understand what the bond between them was. Even Anna couldn't explain it. They just clicked. Given their vastly different backgrounds and upbringings, it was one of life's oddities, but one Anna would be eternally grateful for.

One she was slightly less grateful for at the moment as she reached Gwen and Daisy's side and began to tug on Gwen's arm. The redhead turned to her with a frown.

"We've got to go," Anna told her with a heavy heart.

Gwen's brows furrowed. "What? Why?"

"It's Mary. We've seen—"

Her words were interrupted by Daisy's loud, high-pitched squeal as she said, "Oh my God! Look over there! It's Mr. Bates!"

Gwen span around at once, just as John raised his head at the sound of his name, somehow hearing that through the throng of people. His eyes met Anna's. Even with the distance between them, she felt that spark, the lurch in her stomach and the shiver in her heart. It was a feeling that had become so familiar over the last six months, like a comfort blanket.

Like home.

John simply stared at her, utterly flabbergasted, but then a broad grin made its way across his face. She'd only ever seen him direct that smile at her. Her smile, she called it deep within her heart. She saw Robert elbow him in the side, and he started but turned towards him. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but John reluctantly pointed in their direction.

Well. That hadn't quite gone to plan.

With another thrill, she realised that Robert was attempting to weave his way through the crowds of people—he kept bumping into people's backs, sending their drinks flying, John attempting to apologise as he was dragged along, with Joseph shadowing their steps—until he came to a rest in front of them. Daisy shrank back a little at the sight of two of her bosses, but Robert only cast her a benign, if dazed, smile before turning his attention back to Anna.

"Anna!" he roared. "What the devil are you doing here? What a lovely surprise! On the hunt for an eligible bachelor, are you?"

Avoiding John's eye, she replied airily, "Yeah, something like that."

"What are you drinking? We were just going to get some in, weren't we, Bates, my man?"

"We were," he agreed. His voice was raspy around the edges. He was still looking at her in that way that made her squirm in delight. Normally he wouldn't dare to be so open but she knew here, surrounded by people who would only remember this meeting as a blur in the morning, it was safe.

"I couldn't possibly—" she started to say, but Ethel, arriving late to the scene and still clutching the man's arm, cut across her, the drink making her even bolder than usual.

"I'll have one, thank you, Mr. Crawley," she said.

"Excellent. Where are you girls sitting? We'll bring them over."

"Over there," Gwen said, pointing at their still-empty table.

"And what would you like?"

"A vodka and coke, please," said Ethel.

Daisy and Gwen, shyer, mumbled that they would have the same. John turned his gaze back on her.

"Anna?" he said. "What are you having?"

At this, she couldn't help relenting with a smile. "Just a coke for me. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he murmured.

"You go and sit back down. We'll bring them over to you in a jiffy," said Robert. He turned and stumbled away, leaving John and Joseph Molesley to trail behind.

"Come and find me later," Anna heard Ethel say to her bloke. "Can't pass up the opportunity for a free drink, babe."

The guy made some incoherent grunt and slouched back off to his friends. Ethel frowned at his back.

"Not a keeper, then?" Anna asked as they zigzagged their way back to the table.

"Still trying to weigh up whether it's worth a shag," was the wry reply. "He doesn't seem to have many brains up top, so that might bode well for down below. I tell you, Anna, you ought to give it a go."

"It doesn't really appeal to me," she said lightly.

"Don't knock it until you've tried it. When was the last time you had an honest-to-god, so-good-I-forgot-my-name, toe-curling ravishing?"

Earlier in the week was the honest answer, but Anna merely shrugged her shoulders, not trusting herself to glance in John's direction and not give herself away. She longed for the day when she could be honest with her friends—secret assignations, while exciting, were little use when she wanted to _talk_ about her relationship—but she understood why it had to be the way it was for now. John had been in the middle of messy divorce proceedings when she'd first been introduced to him nearly three years ago now, and when their close friendship had taken a more intimate turn six months before, John had asked her if they could keep it between them for the time being. Vera had the horrible habit of rearing her head whenever she was least expected, and the last thing he wanted to do was jeopardise the progress that he had made towards finally being free of her forever. If she'd caught wind that he was seeing someone else then she would have ground proceedings to a halt out of spite—never mind the fact that her multiple infidelities had been one of the contributing factors to the breakdown of their marriage.

Anna had agreed in a heartbeat. It hadn't been long into their friendship when she'd realised that her feelings weren't strictly platonic, and she had longed for him ever since then. When she had finally discovered that he felt the same way, her world had been completed. A little secret romance was nothing compared to the alternative. Life without him, even this odd double life, as if they were committing a great crime, was so much more preferable to cooling things off, pretending that the feelings she had did not exist.

"What's Mr. Crawley doing here, anyway?" Gwen wondered, breaking her chain of thoughts. "This doesn't seem like the kind of place he would frequent."

"He's married," Daisy added with a frown. "That nice American lady who came to the last party they had at the office. I was invited along even though I'm only the tea girl. She was very nice to me."

"I heard they were having problems," said Ethel. "Another woman. It's usually the way with men…"

"I'll thank you kindly not to gossip about my parents' marriage, thank you very much," came Mary's cold voice from behind. Her bloodshot eyes were narrowed in anger. "Now, what the hell are you doing here? I told you, we've got to go—"

But before she could explain just why it was of the utmost importance that they leave, she herself was interrupted by a clap on the back. Anna had seen them coming, and though her head had told her that it would be wise to warn her friend, her heart had won out. As it so frequently did when it came to John Bates.

"Mary!" her father said cheerfully. "I was wondering where you were! Knew you wouldn't be far away if our Anna was here."

Mary pushed her father's hand away, her eyes flashing. "Papa, what are you doing here!?"

"What do you mean?" he said, immediately defensive. "Your mother is out there having a good time with another man. Why shouldn't I?"

Mary merely sniffed. Even drunk, she knew better than to start airing her parents' dirty laundry out for everyone to gossip about later. Instead, she hissed, "Well, go away!"

"Don't tell me you're embarrassed by your old papa."

"I don't see anyone else here conversing with their fathers. You're too old to be clubbing!"

"Oh, charming," Robert said. "Hear that, Bates? She thinks us a couple of old fogies. We're not dead just yet, Mary. Don't worry, we won't stay with you for long. Here are your drinks, girls. Enjoy."

He, John, and Joseph all set them down. John was holding Anna's; their fingers brushed against each other as he slid it towards her.

"We're not leaving the club," Robert told his daughter. "We have as much right to be here as you do. But we'll leave you in peace. There's plenty of room for all of us, and if you don't want to acknowledge your old papa, then that's up to you. Come on, lads."

He started to turn away and John and Joseph moved with him. Before she could even get hold of herself, Anna blurted out the words that would change the course of the evening.

"Stay."

All three swivelled round at once; she felt the questioning eyes of her friends and the daggers that Mary shot at her. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she was glad for the darkness of the club so that it masked her reaction. Her tongue had stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she forced it to move so she could repeat her request in hoarse tones.

"Stay. Have a drink with us. You wouldn't be intruding. Really."

She knew she was really going to pay for this later—Mary did not take kindly to being openly snubbed—but she couldn't refrain herself. They had had such plans for Valentine's Day, and all had been derailed by their respective best friends. But now…now they had the opportunity to spend a little time together, even if it couldn't be openly, and she couldn't pass it up for anything. Not even to appease Mary.

John's eyes widened a fraction, before he cleared his throat. Turning to Robert, he said casually, "One drink wouldn't hurt, would it, Rob?"

Robert was clearly feeling as if he wanted to teach his eldest daughter a lesson. "Absolutely not. Thank you, girls. That's very kind of you."

There was a lot of shuffling as they all moved round to make room for the men. Anna was determined that she wouldn't miss out on the chance to sit next to her boyfriend. John's eyes upon her were so soft that she had to drop her own gaze, feeling her cheeks heating again under the gentle intensity. He sat so close that his thigh pressed tight to hers. The flickering lights in the club would disguise it.

Ethel grabbed her drink from the table. "So, what brings you here, boys?"

"Thought we'd have a good night out," replied Robert. "Only, these two aren't much fun. John doesn't drink and Joseph's as cautious as a cragsman. We had to leave Charles behind because this kind of thing really isn't his scene."

"It's not that I'm cautious," Joseph protested, almost spilling his drink because his hands were shaking so badly. "It's just that…I never really frequent places like this."

"He likes to pour over the history books in the local library more," Robert said cheerfully. "And don't even get me started on John."

"I'm a terrible grump, I know," John said without a trace of offense. "But there's nothing I can do about getting older. I'd rather leave the partying to the young ones."

"And it's that attitude that's the reason why you're still single even though you're finally divorced from Vera. You ought to be taking this opportunity with both hands."

"Some women are drunk enough for anything," said Ethel. "You've nothing to lose."

"I'll bear that in mind," he said, shooting Anna a sidelong look. She reached for her coke, sucking the straw into her mouth to stop herself from smiling.

"I don't know what you're doing here, Papa," Mary said acidly. "You have no right. Whatever you say, you're still a married man."

"I don't think we'll be married for much longer," he said. "Your mama has been quite clear on the subject."

Uncomfortable silence followed this. Mary glared at her father. Anna fixated on the table so she didn't have to look at the scene. They certainly made for an odd-looking group, the straggle of middle aged men and the gaggle of young women, all sitting around as if death was upon them.

"What brings you here, anyway?" asked Joseph, though his question did not manage to break the ice. Mary turned her withering glower on him, making him shrink back. Thankfully, Ethel seemed to have no qualms about answering.

"We're on the manhunt," she said matter-of-factly. "Single ladies and all that. We need some fun in our lives too."

"And Mary sits here with a face like thunder when she knows damn well that she was the one who broke Matthew's heart," said Robert. It was clearly a vindictive jibe to get back at his daughter for her comment over his marriage. Mary opened her mouth furiously, but John cut across her.

"This isn't the time or the place for this conversation," he said quietly but firmly. "We'll have these drinks and then leave you in peace."

Anna's heart sank. So all she was going to get was a flying visit, without any communication about when they would see each other again, or even a conversation full stop. It was like being tempted by the devil and having the benefits withdrawn at the last second. Underneath the rim of the table, John's hand found her knee and gave a brief squeeze of consolation.

"There's really no need." Once more, she was unable to stop the words from tumbling from her mouth, showing her heart right out on her sleeve. "It'll be fun to spend some time together."

"You're sure…?" said John.

"Absolutely," Ethel said brightly. "Anna, Gwen, will you come with me for a minute? I'd better tell that guy that I'll be a bit longer than I thought."

"Sure," said Gwen. "Excuse us."

The three of them wriggled awkwardly out from the booth again, leaving the others behind. They moved far away enough so that they couldn't be seen by the rest of the group before Ethel turned to her.

"All right, what on earth's got into you, inviting them to stay?" she demanded.

"What's wrong with that?" Anna answered. "We can't have Mary being rude to them! It'll make us look bad."

"Really?" Ethel muttered doubtfully. "No offence, but none of these guys are the kind of people that I would usually go for. And I don't think Mary will thank you for being polite. I say we down our drinks and move on."

"No, it'll be good," she insisted. "It might do Daisy some good to see that her boss isn't as scary as she thinks he is, and Mary needs to calm down and realise that she can't have her way a hundred percent of the time."

"I don't think that will happen," said Ethel. "And I don't know why you're acting so upbeat about all this, either. We're not gonna be approached by any guys if they think we're hanging out with men already. That puts a stopper to my plans for the evening."

"You could always go home to your son," Gwen pointed out.

"Charlie's grandparents have got him for the evening. You know I love my boy, but I've got to let my hair down _sometimes_. Do you know how hard it is to find someone to shag when you have a three year old at your hip?"

"I can't say I do," Gwen murmured with a smile. "I don't have a kid. But I understand the sentiment. Tell you what, let's do what Anna says this week, just because I think it would be rude to bugger off after inviting them over, and then next weekend we'll all go on the pull with you. How about it?"

"I'm not really the one you have to convince," said Ethel. "Look at Mary."

"Mary will be fine," said Anna. "She'll be stung for a while but she'll get over it. Now let's make them feel welcome."

With that, the trio returned to the table. John looked up questioningly and Anna shot him a reassuring smile, slipping in beside him once more.

"Everything okay?" he murmured.

"More than okay. You're going to stay here and have a good time with me."

"Glad to hear it," he breathed, and they reluctantly turned their attention back to the rest of the group before anyone noticed anything amiss about their behaviour.

Thankfully, the time together wasn't too painful. Ethel was a flirty social butterfly at the best of times, and she was fantastic at drawing others into the conversation, making sure that neither Robert nor Joseph felt unwelcome despite Mary's surly looks and steadfast refusal to string together more than two words at a time. Daisy was almost as quiet, though Anna suspected it had a lot to do with her feeling overwhelmed about her bosses sitting around the table with her downing shots of whiskey like there was no tomorrow. Gwen was as sweet as she usually was. Bit by bit, Anna felt herself relax, and she spent the time chatting happily with the others, brushing subtly against John as often as she could manage. Robert seemed to be enjoying himself; he was getting progressively louder the longer he talked about his love of golf. When the final dregs of their drinks had been drunk, he slammed his glass down on the table and called for another round. John stood dutifully.

"My round," he said.

Anna stood too.

"I think I'm just going to head to the bathroom," she said.

"I'll get you a drink in. What do you want?"

"I'll have a J20. I can't get drunk but I can spice things up a little."

"Good choice. What do you want, girls?"

After the other women had placed their orders, John slid out of the booth. Anna followed, with Joseph close behind.

"I'll give you a carry," he said.

"It's fine. I can get a tray," said John. "Or maybe Anna could give me a hand on her way back."

"I'd be happy too," she said, hoping that how happy she would be at getting some time alone with him didn't show in her voice.

Oblivious, Joseph continued to track them. "A lady shouldn't have to get the drinks in, Anna. It's fine. I don't mind."

Anna knew that there was little way that John could continue to argue without giving anything away. With a roll of his eyes, he said, "Very well. You can help me."

They parted ways. Anna cast a lingering look behind her to find John striding towards the bar with Joseph trailing at his heels before she continued towards the bathroom.

Once there, she cast a surreptitious look in the mirror. She'd been worried that her makeup might have smudged in the heat, but all was still in order. John never cared what she looked like, and she was certainly comfortable enough to lounge around him in baggy old pyjamas, sans makeup, but it was nice to make an effort sometimes too. She touched herself up just a little before returning outside.

She spied John and Joseph still at the bar, and began to weave her way towards them. Joseph seemed to be talking eagerly. He was leaning forward towards John, who in turn appeared to be feigning interest as he signalled for the barman. Anna moved closer. Now she was in hearing range, despite the loud music.

"That Anna seems like a nice girl," she heard him say as she approached.

John's reply was guarded. "Yes, she is. A very nice girl."

"How well do you know her?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, do you see her around much? You're always with Robert and from what I can gather Anna seems to be good friends with Robert's eldest. You must know her."

"That's true. She comes home with Mary quite a lot. She has a very nice manner. Very polite and congenial, and very easy to talk to."

"I hope this doesn't sound too unchivalrous to ask, but I was wondering what you could tell me about her private life? Ethel implied they were all single, but does she have anyone special in her life? I wouldn't want to step on anyone's toes and make a fool out of myself, but she's very lovely."

"I'd like to say she hasn't. I would, truly, but I'm afraid there _is_ someone else." John's voice remained steady, but even in this lighting Anna could see the protective flash in his eyes.

Oblivious, Joseph said, "Have you met him? Would you say it's a casual thing, or does he seem keen on her? Do you think it's worth me having a go?"

John drew himself to his full height, like a stag weighing up the opponent, ready to butt heads if it came down to it. "I have met him a few times, actually. He keeps himself to himself and he's very hard to read at times…but I'd say he's keen. I'd say he's very keen indeed."

"Pity," Joseph muttered balefully. "I knew I should have spoken up a while back. I'm not saying that I'm anything special, but Anna doesn't seem the sort to dismiss someone without giving them a chance."

"I can't argue with you there," John agreed. He finally caught sight of her over his companion's shoulder, and tried not to smile.

"Well, maybe I won't have missed my chance entirely. You never know."

"You don't," John conceded, "but I think he could be the fabled 'one' for her. I know that she's 'the one' for him."

He did not look away from her, and she felt her heart swell, at bursting point with the uncontainable love she had for him. For a long time she had stopped believing in that legendary 'one', had almost given up on love entirely after her own disastrous past. And now here they were, together at last.

There was no doubt in her mind that he was 'the one' for her too. He might struggle to believe it, but she had known it for so long. They were unbreakable, she could feel it in her bones.

A part of her felt sorry for Joseph, knowing that she could never give him what he wanted. One day she might even have to let him down gently, if he decided to follow his heart before the news of her happiness surfaced. It was a prospect she did not relish, but she didn't want to string him along either. Better to tell him now and give him a chance to lick his wounds and move on rather than have him pine after her like a puppy.

Deciding it was time to make her presence known to all, she pushed her way through to the bar, wriggling her way between the two men.

"You've got my drink, then?" she asked John brightly.

"Of course," he said, pushing it towards her. "A J20, as milady wished."

"I can buy the next round," Joseph said eagerly.

"That's very kind of you, Mr. Molesley."

"Are you coming back to the table?"

"Maybe in a little while. I think I want to dance first."

Joseph's eyes lit up at the prospect, but John cut across him smoothly. "Are you looking for a dance partner, Miss Smith?"

"I might be," she replied, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, unable to resist looking at him from underneath her lashes.

"Then allow me to assist you."

"That's very kind of you, Mr. Bates."

"I didn't think you danced," Joseph muttered mournfully. "You've never danced at anything we've done before."

"That's very true. But Robert has ordered me to push myself out of my comfort zone, and I think Miss Smith will be kind enough not to laugh at me when I make a fool out of myself."

"Well, I can't promise that, but I can promise to hold you steady."

"That's good enough for me." John held his arm out to her in an exaggerated gentlemanly manner, and Anna slipped her hand into the crook, squeezing subtly. "Can you manage getting these drinks back, Joe?"

"Perhaps later I shall want another dance," she said to Joseph, noticing his crestfallen expression and wanting to brighten him up. It seemed to do the trick; he shot her a tentative smile and said that he'd hold her to it before John all but dragged her away.

"What will the others say when they see us dancing together?" he wondered, casting a glance over at the table where the other members of their respective parties were still sitting.

"I think they're having too much fun to notice anything going on outside their little bubble," said Anna.

"Apart from Mary," noted John, and Anna couldn't help but tut at her friend's stubbornly sullen expression.

"She won't notice anything either. I'm afraid she's too wrapped up in her own woes. Why, do you care what they'd say?"

By this time, they had reached the crowded dance floor. The fast-paced song was just playing its final notes, to be replaced by one with an equally poppy beat. Anna turned around, moving closer to him so that she could wrap her arms around his neck. He placed his around her waist, squeezing her, pulling her tight against him. She could smell the aftershave he was wearing—the one she had professed was her favourite. She inhaled deeply, moving her nose as close to his neck as she dared so she could breathe in as much as possible. He was warm and solid against her. Her safe place.

Her home.

"I don't care what anyone says when I'm with you," John admitted. "I wouldn't even care if Robert started teasing me about my dancing abilities, or if Mary had something scathing to say because she's in such a bad mood. Maybe it should matter, but it doesn't."

She smiled in contentment as he started to slowly guide them in circles. He certainly wasn't a dancer, lacking all of the grace, but to her that was the least important thing in the whole world. He was doing this for her when ordinarily nothing would be able to tempt him to participate in such a humiliating experience. Their slow steps were a stark contrast to the music, but they were in a world of their own. None of that mattered.

John bent his head, singing the words of the song into her ear as they moved—rather tunelessly, it had to be said, but it made her hairs stand on end pleasurably nevertheless. She drew breath, her face as close to his neck as she dared get without arousing suspicion.

"I didn't think you'd know the words to this," she said.

"I know I'm old, but I don't live in the nineteenth century. This was all the rage ten years ago."

She snorted, squeezing him tighter as they moved in slow circles. "You're an idiot."

"Your idiot," he murmured into her hair.

She closed her eyes, giving in and resting her cheek against his chest as he held her protectively. There was silence for a moment, the music washing over them, until John spoke again, his voice husky.

"I wish everyone did know, you know," he said. "I can't wait for the day when I can proudly introduce you to everyone as my girlfriend. I know it's been slow-moving over the last six months, but I've ached for that every minute of every day."

"I know," she reassured him. "And I love you for saying it. But it hasn't been bad."

"You don't need to say that just to placate me."

"I'm not. It's true. All right, yes, it would be wonderful to kiss you whenever I want and to talk to the others about it, but that doesn't mean I haven't had fun with it being our little secret. It's been like an inside joke, and I have to say, it's been rather amusing to hear Mary complain about how many evening classes I'm attending without realising that I'm spending the evening with you." She smiled cheekily against him. "Mostly in your bed. It's a good thing she hasn't requested a round of French lessons herself now that I'm supposed to be an expert."

"You've been a very good pupil," he teased. "And a very good teacher, too. And your French _has_ improved."

" _John!"_ she hissed, glancing around quickly to ensure no one was around to catch anything they were saying.

"Sorry."

He wasn't, not really. She knew him too well. Before, he had always been the perfect gentleman, courteous and attentive. Despite their very close friendship she had always sensed some kind of barrier between them. Sometimes the façade would slip and she would catch a glimpse of the aching longing beneath it all, but he was careful to never let it be more than it was. Until one day, she had snapped. Unable to bear the thought of him making them both miserable, she had taken matters into her own hands.

He had tried to resist her, of course. But even John's will of steel had become malleable under her mouth. And thus their clandestine affair had started. It might sound dirty to others. But Anna had never known something so pure, so right. And it hadn't been a real affair, not really. He and Vera had been separated for a long time before anything had developed between the two of them. Married in name was not the same thing as a true marriage. They didn't live together. He didn't still sleep with her. Why should Vera dictate the way that he could move on from her?

As time had passed, his confidence in their relationship had grown. Vera had been a constant source of worry, but he had finally started to relax, and Anna was treated to a regular glimpse of his true nature, of his wicked sense of humour and the way he truly felt about her.

Seeing his confidence blossom had been the most beautiful thing in the world. Especially when it had blossomed in the form of the word that she had been longing to hear fall from his lips for so long. Love.

Shaking her head to bring herself back to the present moment—a perfect one at that—Anna lamented, "Robert has thrown a spanner in the works these past couple of weeks."

"I don't know, I thought throwing that sickie was a piece of impeccable acting. And I had the perfect nurse to help me feel better again."

"He'd be appalled if he knew."

"I like to think that he'd think it was a piece of creative genius. Either way, it won't be long now, Anna. I promise you."

"I'm here for as long as it takes," she vowed.

His fingers grazed just lightly from waist to hip and back again, as much as he could do in these surroundings. His eyes were soft and tender as he gazed down at her, their slow swaying so completely at odds with the lively music that encompassed the other dancing couples. Even with the flickering dance lights flashing over his face he looked perfect to her.

And she couldn't stop the words from tumbling from her lips.

"Come home with me tonight," she said. "Please."

John's sigh was heavy with regret. "Anna, you know I can't do that. Robert will suspect that something's wrong. And what about Mary? She's drunk, but I'm quite sure she'd notice me riding home in the taxi with you and following you into your room for the night."

"Can't you make arrangements with Robert?" she asked feverishly. "Or tell him that you've found a woman after all?"

"It doesn't sound plausible," he said, but she could see that he was weakening. It would only take a little more to convince him. "And that still doesn't solve the problem of Mary."

"I can ask Gwen to look after her tonight," she said desperately. "Gwen isn't that drunk, and she has a spare bed."

"What excuse can you give for that?"

"I don't know." Anna chewed her lip, avoiding his eye. Because she did know. It was risky and she knew he would be against it, but it was the only way. She couldn't not have him, not after tonight.

"If you think you can sort it, then yes," he breathed. The look in his eyes made it clear that he wanted to cup her face in his palms and kiss her.

"Give me five minutes," she said. "Get another drink or something."

He nodded, reluctantly letting her go when the song played its final note. She squeezed his hand and slipped away.

Gwen and the others were still sitting together at the table. Mary scowled, but Gwen smiled brightly.

"What're you having?" she said, clambering over everyone so that she could reach the floor. "I'm just going to buy another round. I think we polished your drink off while you were gone."

"Actually, I need a quick word," Anna said. "Can you come with me for a minute?"

"Um, sure," Gwen said, frowning.

The others peered after them curiously, but Anna ignored them and pulled her friend along by the wrist. Once they were a safe distance away, she began to talk, low and urgently.

"You've got to do me a huge favour, Gwen."

"If I can, you know I will."

"Will you take Mary home with you tonight?"

Gwen obviously hadn't been expecting that. "What? What's wrong with her going home with you?"

"Because I've got the chance of a night of hot sex, and if Mary's there that puts the kibosh on it."

"…A night of hot sex? Since when? Anna, we agreed: a one night stand is not the best way to go about this. You're brilliant to be around and you're kind and enthusiastic and pretty and all the rest of it. The right man will come along soon. Don't get disheartened. You know we only tease you."

She rolled her eyes. "Gwen, I'm not disheartened. It's not going to be a meaningless one night stand. I've…I've been seeing this man for quite some time."

The cogs in Gwen's head seemed slow to turn. "Come again? You're _seeing_ someone? Since when!?"

"Six months now," she confided.

" _What?_ You've been seeing someone for _six months_ and you've never once breathed word of it to me? You can't be serious!"

"It's been…complicated."

"What's so complicated about taking me aside and telling me that you've been seeing someone? All these months of everyone trying to set you up with a new boyfriend and you've had one all this time? That's hardly fair to us."

This was it. The moment that she had been longing for and dreading. The moment which could prove to be cathartic or the worst mistake she had ever made. But she trusted Gwen. She trusted Gwen above all others, perhaps even above Mary, because they came from the same kind of background and understood each other so well.

"It's not that I ever wanted to deceive any of you," she said, speaking quietly now, soft enough that Gwen had to lean in to hear her. "It's just that…the man that I've been seeing is John."

"John?" Gwen furrowed her eyebrows, at a loss. "Who the hell is John?"

Of course. She'd forgotten that people like Gwen, who worked under him in the publishing company, would only ever refer to him as Mr. Bates. In her intimacy with him, she had presumed that everyone else would simply know who she was talking about.

"John Bates," she said.

Gwen's eyes widened to a comical degree. "John _Bates_? Not…not Mr. Crawley's Mr. Bates? Not my boss?"

"How many other John Bateses do you know?" Anna said, more crossly this time as Gwen continued to stare, mouth open like a goldfish. "And keep your voice down—I told you, no one else can know!"

"Give me a minute," Gwen said faintly, shaking her head as if her ears were waterlogged. "Bloody hell, this is insane. You're telling me you've been seeing Mr. Bates for six whole months and no one was any the wiser to it?"

"It's been complicated, you know that yourself. What with his ex-wife making things difficult, we didn't want to draw attention to ourselves. And, well, we started to see each other a couple of months before the divorce was finalised completely and the last thing either of us wanted was for her to throw upset the settlement by claiming that we'd been having an affair behind her back."

"This is surreal. You and a married man…!"

"But that's the point, he wasn't married, not in the proper way. He and Vera have been split up for years, and he left the family home ages ago so that he could start the divorce proceedings in the first place. I've not seduced a married man away from his wedding vows."

"I'm sorry. You're right. It was a kneejerk reaction. It's just…I can't believe we didn't see this happening right under our noses. Now all this extra time you've been spending away from us makes perfect sense. I know I can't ask for any details now—"

"But you'll get them," Anna promised. "Monday dinner. I'll explain everything to you over a coffee in your favourite café. My treat."

"I'll hold you to that. And I'll take Mary off your hands so you can have your hot night of sex with Mr. Bates." Gwen shuddered. "Good God, I never thought I'd utter that sentence. And the last thing I want to do is imagine Mr. Bates in the throes of passion. It'll put me right off the cheesy chips I was going to get before heading home."

"Thank you. I think," said Anna. "Do you think you'll be able to make my excuses to the others…?"

"I'll tell them that you weren't feeling very well and you've headed off home. I'll drag Mary with me because you're worried that it might be infectious. Which I don't think it is, but you never know what oddities strike people."

Anna flashed her the finger playfully, before pulling her into a fierce hug.

"Thank you," she mumbled into her shoulder, not even sure Gwen could hear her over the music. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"I think I have a pretty good idea. Now go."

With one last squeeze, Anna departed. She found John still standing at the bar, sipping on another coke. He put it down when he saw her.

"Well?" he asked, a little anxiously.

She gave him a beaming grin. "All sorted. What do you say to getting out of here, Mr. Bates?"

"I say that I like the sound of that. Let me square it with Robert quickly. Can you call a taxi? I'll meet you in the entrance."

She nodded, watching as he pushed his way through the bar. Finishing off his drink for him, she made her way outside, pulling her mobile phone from her bag as she did so. She dialled a taxi firm as he'd asked, and they informed her that a taxi could be with them within fifteen minutes. She thanked them and went back to waiting impatiently for John. He didn't keep her waiting too long, puffing as he emerged from the club.

"Alone at last," he sighed when he saw her, pulling her further along the street. She wanted to reach up and kiss him, but stopped herself. She would save that for later, when they truly were alone. She shivered instead, the cold February air burrowing into the marrow of her bones.

"Cold?" asked John, noticing. "Here, take my coat."

"I couldn't," she protested.

"You can. I'll be fine. More meat on my bones to keep me warm. Can't have you catching your death."

"Thank you," she relented, and he wrapped it snug around her shoulders. She relished the warmth as it seeped into her, breathing in the warm scent of his aftershave; it certainly made the wait for the taxi easier to bear. He stood with her tucked against his side, dropping kisses into her hair periodically.

"You're cold now," she murmured, lightly touching the hairs on his forearm, which had stood up.

"I could never be cold when I'm holding you in my arms," he shot back, nudging his nose against his temple, encouraging her to look up.

"You are a charmer, John Bates," she scolded.

"So you like to tell me."

She rolled her eyes and he dipped down to kiss her, right in full view of the street. She pulled away.

"Someone will see us," she said breathlessly.

"I know it was my rule, but I'm caring less with every day that passes. I can't wait for the day when I can proudly announce that I've somehow managed to land someone as beautiful and intelligent as you. All the blokes will be jealous and wonder how I managed it. And I won't be able to tell them how I did it, because I don't have the foggiest."

"You don't have to be so modest. You know exactly what it was that made me fall for you. I've told you enough times already."

"Doesn't mean I can believe it," he joked gently, kissing her hair.

They were interrupted by a taxi pulling up at the curb. John disentangled himself and moved to open the door, ducking his head inside.

"Bates?" he asked.

The driver nodded. "That's the one, mate."

John motioned for Anna to come forward and she slipped graciously into the back seat while John took the passenger. It was lamentable she had to be away from him for the journey, but there wasn't enough room in the back for his long legs.

The driver repeated the address he had been given at the taxi depot. Anna confirmed that it was the right one, and they set off. The drive was made largely in silence, John and the driver's comments about the day's football the only thing that broke it. She settled for staring out of the window, watching the scenery fly by. In her head she calculated what she had at home for their impromptu night of romance. With Mary and Robert scuppering their plans to spend the evening together, she hadn't done anything in the way of preparation. There were probably some candles under the sink—always handy to have around in case of a power cut—but they hardly had the same effect as the scented ones she had taken to buying. She was wearing practical knickers rather than the sexy, uncomfortable ones she favoured when she was planning to seduce him. The trip to Ann Summers had been delayed for another occasion.

She shook her head. It would be fine, of course. John didn't need any of those things to enjoy her company. She just wished she could make more of an effort on the most romantic night of the year.

Soon they were pulling up outside the flat that she rented with Mary. John paid the driver. He thanked them and drove off.

They were alone.

Anna fished in her handbag for her swipe card while John lingered at her back. She was all-too aware of his presence; it took every inch of her self-restraint not to turn around and kiss him senseless, right there on the street. Mrs. Ross' twitching curtains on the first floor was the only thing that made her think better of it.

She keyed them in and together they crossed the lobby to the lift. It seemed to take an age to arrive, and they hurried inside. He kept his hand at her back. She burned.

At long last, they reached the right floor. Anna let them in, and locked the door firmly behind them.

 _Now_ they were alone.

John made to switch on the light, but she reached out and stopped him.

"No," she breathed. "We don't need them. Not tonight."

"You're sure? Nothing has to happen just because I'm here, you know that. We can watch one of those cheesy rom-coms you love so much, or just cuddle."

"I know. But I'm sure, John. I always want this with you. Come to bed."

He leaned into her touch when she cupped his cheek with the palm of her hand.

"Yes," he murmured.

The flat was in darkness, but she knew her way around the furniture like a cat that could see in the dark. He followed her faithfully. She pushed open her bedroom door and stepped inside.

* * *

John's breathing accelerated as he picked up the pace, almost slamming into her now. Anna let the moan of pleasure fly from her, thrusting her hips up as hard as she could, finding his hand over hers in a blind anguish, teaching him the rhythm she needed. She felt the hot slickness of herself, shuddering. They rubbed her together, his eyes ardent and watchful upon her face, working together to bring her to the peak—

And then she was launched over it, crying out rawly, whole body seizing up with the bliss that flooded her. Her nails scraped down his back, making him grunt in return. Seconds later he stiffened against her, his own groans of rapture echoing in her ears as he found his own release. He held himself above her for only a few seconds before collapsing, rolling quickly to the side before he squashed the breath out of her entirely. She moved to vine herself around him, uncaring that it was a bit sticky and uncomfortable, still needing the reassurance that being intimate with him brought. He opened his arms, letting her snuggle into his chest, pressing kiss after kiss to her forehead and hair. She breathed in the musk of their lovemaking on his skin.

"I needed that," she mumbled sleepily.

John chuckled. "Glad I could be of service to you."

"A very good service it was too."

They lay quietly for a few moments, until John shifted to clean them up a bit. She whined at the loss of contact but he was soon finished, wrapping her up in his arms once more. He pulled the duvet tight around them, keeping in the heat.

"You know," he commented, "I like your room. And your bed is comfy."

She snorted, idling with his chest hair. "Thank you." In all their months together, he had never stayed the night at hers. Living with Mary meant that she had to navigate some pitfalls, and they had never managed to spend the night in her own surroundings, despite the many nights she had spent sleeping in his bed. This was a very nice first.

He stretched out his limbs as much as their position would allow. "I could definitely get used to this."

"So could I." She hadn't meant to say the words, but she didn't regret them.

"Soon," he said. "I can't wait. How did you convince Gwen to take Mary, by the way?"

Anna debated being evasive, but she had always been honest with him. "I told her the chance of a night of hot sex had come up."

John shifted his head, arching his eyebrow at her. "Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"I bet that piqued her interest."

"It did indeed."

"So who is your lover for the evening? Some young, fit bodybuilder only just turned twenty, thrilled to have bagged someone as stunning as yourself for the evening?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, you always have to be so self-deprecating."

"It's the truth. I'm an old man with a lingering war injury, somehow lucky enough to have a girlfriend as amazing as you. I will thank my lucky stars every day that we're together. Now go on, do tell. Tonight, Matthew, I can be anyone you desire." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, moving his fingers to tease at her ribs. She squealed, writhing in his arms. He didn't stop until she begged him to, almost as breathless as she had been after their lovemaking. She tucked herself tightly to him again, finding his hand and twining their fingers together. He bent his head and she angled hers up, kissing him softly for a lingering moment before returning to the matter at hand.

"So come on, who was I?" he said.

"You were you," she said simply.

His brows furrowed. "Me?"

This was it. She took a deep breath. "I told Gwen the truth. That I've been seeing you."

"I see." He was silent for a moment.

"You're not angry, are you? She won't tell anyone, not if I swear her to secrecy."

"I'm not angry, no." He paused again before continuing. "It's just…a little overwhelming. You've told the first person about us. It makes it realer, somehow. That there _is_ an 'us'."

An 'us'. Anna glowed at the words. He was right. It did make it seem realer. Like they did have a tangible future together, perhaps with marriage if he hadn't been scarred for life, and maybe even children either way. They were a long way off discussing either of those things, but they were possibilities.

"What did Gwen say when you told her?" John asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

Anna stretched, propping herself up on an elbow so she could peer down into his face. "She didn't have a bloody clue who you were. She is not accustomed to hearing you being called by your first name. Afterwards she seemed a little over-awed. I think she'll watch what she's saying now that she knows I'm sleeping with her boss."

"And what might she have said?"

"No comment, Mr. Bates. Whatever has been said is strictly private and confidential."

"I could tickle it out of you."

"I wouldn't break."

"I'm sure I could make you cave somehow…"

She wriggled as his hand moved even lower over her. "What are you doing?" she panted.

"Nothing," he said innocently.

His fingers began to tease in a pattern that definitely wasn't innocent, and she squirmed, her heart beginning to pump faster once more.

"That's definitely something," she managed.

"Well, I did promise to worship you thoroughly…" he murmured, tugging her down so he could suckle her nipple into his mouth. She gasped loudly, stroking her fingers down the side of his face as he set about his task with great enthusiasm.

Their conversation was forgotten then, and neither of them spoke another word for a very long time.

* * *

When Anna awoke to the sullen grey light, she would have known that the previous evening hadn't been a dream from the delicious ache between her thighs even if John's sturdy form wasn't pressed tight to her back, his soft snores rasping against her ear. She stretched as much as she dared, relishing the contrast of his hairy body against her smooth skin. It was not the first time that they had ever woken up together, but it _was_ the first time they had ever woken up in her bed. There was something about being wrapped snugly in his arms, so warm despite the cold early February, seeing the familiar sights of her bedroom conflicting with the unfamiliar sensation of him being there with her. It was as if he had been made to fit in with her surroundings. Nothing had ever felt so right.

In her heart of hearts, she knew that nothing else ever would again.

Stirring behind her alerted her to the fact that John was rousing, and she turned a little as his grip on her loosened.

"Good morning," she said.

John groaned in the back of his throat, stretching out his limbs until his bones popped. "It can't be that already. What time is it?"

"Just after seven fifteen."

"That's early for you."

"And late for you."

"I find myself thoroughly worn out by a woman with very wicked ways."

"If I see her, I'll be sure to give her a good slap."

John chuckled hoarsely. "Come here, you."

She giggled, obliging happily as she rolled over fully and wrapped her arms around his neck. He gave her a thorough good morning before pulling away, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I need to get going soon," he murmured.

Anna pushed away a little. "What? Why?"

"Robert," he reminded her. "I don't know how much of last night he'll remember, but I think I should be there to allay suspicion. I didn't tell him that I'd found a woman, I just said that I'd had a phone call from a friend that needed my help and that I'd be back later."

She pouted. "I thought we might have been able to spend some time together today."

"What about Mary?"

He had a point. Gwen might have taken her in, but there was little chance of her keeping hold of the reigns if Mary wanted to rebel. She would probably be home at dinner.

"All right," she sighed. "Give me five minutes and I'll get up and make us some breakfast. You can stretch to that, can't you?"

"Definitely," he said. "Believe me, I wish I could stay. Or better yet, that we were at mine so that we didn't have to worry about Mary."

"Bloody Robert. He needs to sort things out with Cora for the good of our sex life, never mind his marriage."

"I don't know, I thought our sex life was pretty good in spite of Robert."

"It _was_ pretty good until Robert forced us to abstain."

"You're supposed to say it's mind blowing."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be getting too arrogant there, Mr. Bates…"

"I thought it was safe to—the way you were carrying on last night…"

She felt her cheeks heat, and stroked his chest. "Oh, be quiet."

He chuckled, grasping her hips and pulling her closer. She loved that he could be so playful with her, that it was a side of him so rarely seen by anyone else.

"Do you want your present now?" she asked breathlessly, unable to resist dropping a kiss onto his mouth.

"I thought I'd already had my present," he said, moving one of his arms behind his head. He looked very much the picture of relaxation, sprawled there in her bed.

"Silly beggar," she said affectionately. "Of course not."

"Save it," he told her. "I have mine for you at home because I didn't realise I'd be waking up here this morning. Let's set a proper date in the week."

"All right," she agreed, unable to stop her smile. "Now, I'll get us some breakfast sorted. I'll see what we have in."

"You don't need to. We can stay here. I can grab a coffee and a croissant on the way home."

"Tempting as that is, I want to. I like to do these things for you."

"Best not to be too enthusiastic. I might get ideas. You know what happens exactly a month from today." His grin was decidedly lecherous.

"I don't even know how you know about that," she grumbled, her dancing eyes belying her tone. She cupped her cheek to kiss him, but he held her at bay.

"Are you saying I'm too old?" he joked.

"Too much of a gentleman."

"I'm afraid you bring out the ungentlemanly side of me with your racy ways."

"A happy relief." She managed to steal one more kiss from him before rolling away and sitting up. He made a half-hearted attempt to grab her, but she swatted his hands away and slipped out of bed, shivering in the cold air. She fished around on the floor for last night's discarded clothes, picking up his plaid shirt and slipping it on. John groaned behind her.

"That looks better on you than it does on me," he said huskily.

She shot him a naughty grin over her shoulder, fastening the last few buttons on the shirt, turning to give him a generous view of her chest. "I don't know, it suits you very nicely. Now, wait here. I'll call you when breakfast is ready."

"I could get used to this," he murmured, and she left him reclining there, languid as a lion.

Bacon and eggs was on the agenda, and Anna set about whipping up a tasty breakfast. Her own stomach grumbled as she worked. It had been a long time since she had last eaten, and she had worked up a healthy appetite with their antics.

She was halfway through chopping tomatoes when the door to the flat clicked open. She narrowly missed slicing her finger open, and span around with her heart flying up to her mouth, her whole body going cold. It couldn't be…

But it was.

Mary Crawley stood in the doorway, looking very much the worse for wear. Anna's hands bolted to the mostly opened shirt, pulling it tight around her.

"Mary!" she squeaked. "What are you doing here!?"

"I live here," was the sanctimonious reply, though the shock and horror was evident on her face. "What are _you_ doing!?"

"Making breakfast," she babbled.

"I can see that." Mary stalked into the room, dropping her bag onto the counter. He gaze was calculating. "I knew there was something odd about Gwen telling me that you'd gone home feeling ill when you'd showed no signs all evening. I might have been drunk, but I'm not an idiot. Who was he?"

"I don't know what you mean," she said, even though it was futile to deny it. The evidence was stacked high against her. Wearing only a man's barely-buttoned shirt, with hair that had been tousled many times over by John's passionate hands, she knew that she looked like someone who had been rolling in the sheets with someone not long before.

Mary's eyes narrowed further. "Don't play the fool with me. Is he still here? Or are you merely keeping his shirt as a souvenir of a lovely time?"

Now the panic rose within her as Mary strode towards her bedroom. She would open the door and find John, and then their secret would truly be out in the open.

"No—" she said, stepping forward.

But before she could move and before Mary could reach the door, it flew open of its own accord.

"Anna, do you need any help—?" John started, and then stopped short.

It was if they had all been frozen in time, staring at each other wide-eyed, pure shock etched across all of their expressions.

Mary opened her mouth and screamed—rather over-dramatically, Anna thought, since John had, thank God for small mercies, taken the time to replace his boxers before venturing into the main part of the flat. She slapped her hands over her eyes.

"What the hell is going on!?" she shrieked.

John had sprung back in response to Mary's scream, cheeks blooming rose red at being caught in such a position. Anna opened her mouth, but her voice seemed to have deserted her.

"You and John!?" Mary yelped, rounding on her. "How much did you have to drink last night!?"

"Oh, charming," John commented. It was the wrong move; Mary turned her attention back to him, face like thunder, growling like a dangerous dog.

"Don't even get me started on you! How could you have sex with her when she was too incapacitated to say no!? You prick! Vera may have treated you like shit, but that gives you no right to treat everyone else that way!"

But Mary's outburst finally gave Anna her voice back.

"Don't be so silly," she said crossly. "I didn't touch a drop last night. I knew exactly what I was doing."

"But it makes no _sense_!" Mary said, her gaze like steel. "For months we've all been trying to encourage you to date again and you've stubbornly thwarted our every attempt. And yet you jump into the sack with a man nearly twice your age without batting an eyelid?"

Anna felt her temper rising dangerously. "He's nowhere near twice my age."

"And I would appreciate it if you could stop talking about me as if I'm not in the room," said John. His cheeks were still bright red from the nasty shock of Mary's arrival, but both his tone and his eyes were steady. "I can hear every word you're saying, despite what you may believe to be the contrary. No doubt you think I'm old enough to need a hearing aid."

For the first time, Mary looked ashamed. "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry if I offended you. It's just coming home to this…" She gestured lamely, and trailed off.

"It's a shock, I know," said Anna, sidling up to John's side. Internally, she wondered how she could explain it away. She had told Gwen the truth because she had seen no other way around it. If she told Mary too, it seemed that it would only be a matter of time before the whole world knew. And that was something John didn't want yet. She would be happy to shout it from the rooftops and let her joy drown out the doubters, but if John still thought that it was too soon then she would have to come up with some other explanation—

"I understand that it's a shock," John said calmly. "I'm sure it would be to anyone walking through these doors. But the fact of the matter is that I love Anna, and she loves me. This wasn't a one night stand to boost my ego and give her some quick release." He glanced down at her now. She beamed up at him in return, hardly daring to believe her ears. He had just said that he loved her out loud, to Mary Crawley no less. Unable to stop herself, she slid her arm around his waist, and he draped his across her shoulders, pulling her tighter to his side. Proud, she jutted out her chin and faced her friend, who looked utterly gobsmacked at the admission.

"Love?" she echoed faintly.

"Love," John confirmed, smiling slightly. "The happiest six months of my life."

"Why don't you sit down," said Anna. "We were just going to eat breakfast, as you can see. Join us."

"It's about time you knew everything," said John.

"Everything," Anna repeated, the smile stretching her lips.

Mary grimaced, looking away from their near-nakedness. "Not everything, I hope."

* * *

John hoped that he could tiptoe into his home undetected, slip back into bed, and then pretend that nothing had happened. His day had got off to an uncomfortable enough start without anything adding to it. Sharing breakfast at the table with Anna while Mary had demanded to know every detail about how they had gone from friends to so much more had not been his idea of a romantic morning—especially when they had had to duck into the bedroom like naughty children to rearrange their clothing into a more acceptable state, though Anna had pouted and moaned about having to take his shirt off when it was so comfortable. She'd made him promise that next time he saw her he would give her an old t-shirt for her to keep for herself, since the cat was out of the bag now and she loved how comfy his large clothes were on her.

If he was honest, he was rather glad to have escaped Mary, kissing Anna at the door and leaving her to do the rest of the explaining about why it had been so important to keep the relationship private. That said, in some ways he felt like a different man entirely. Their secret was out. They didn't have to deny their feelings to the world and sneak around as if they were committing a punishable crime. He could introduce her to his mother and make the old girl content that he had finally found his true happiness. She could introduce him to hers, and roll her eyes affectionately at the way he fussed that they wouldn't like him. A whole new world of exciting possibilities had been opened up, and he couldn't wait to explore them all with her by his side.

Despite that, the last thing he needed now was the sixth degree from Robert. He wanted to tell his friend, but he wasn't sure if he could go through another grilling like the one he had suffered at breakfast so soon after the last one.

It wasn't meant to be. When he opened his front door, slid off his coat and shoes, and crept into the sitting room, he found Robert slumped in one of the armchairs, looking a bit wild with his bright red eyes, but alert nevertheless. He stopped short. Robert regarded him as if he was his unruly son.

"What time do you call this?" he asked.

"Just after nine," John said airily.

"Where have you been?"

"For a walk. The air's lovely and brisk at this time."

"Don't you try to pull the wool over my eyes, Bates. I know you haven't been home all night. I checked when I woke up to be sick, and your bed is in pristine condition. As it happens, I could have bloody well done with you being here."

"Why, what's happened?" said John.

Robert picked up his phone from the coffee table beside him and tossed it in John's direction. He caught it, furrowing his brows.

"Open the messages," said Robert. "Look at what I was doing at four o'clock this morning."

Still frowning, John clicked on the little letter icon, being greeted by the top message. A conversation between Robert and Cora. He looked up again, mouth dry.

" _Please_ tell me you didn't do anything stupid," he begged.

"See for yourself."

John fell silent as he took in the texts in front of him. When he was done, he glanced up.

"This is good," he said.

"You think?" Robert replied, running his hand through his hair and making it stick up more than usual. "She probably just thinks I'm pathetic."

"I don't think so. This is the most honest you've been throughout this whole time. And it seems like I was right about her calling your bluff after all."

His friend rose and snatched his phone back, staring down at the screen. "You know, if these texts weren't so appallingly spelt, I would accuse you of meddling."

"I'm glad I wasn't here to meddle. If I'd known that you were going to do something like that, I probably would have tried to stop you until you had a clearer head on your shoulders. As it is, it looks like Cora really is going to give you a chance to sit down and talk properly. Whatever you do, don't mess it up again. You and Cora have something fantastic, something worth fighting for. Don't let your pride get in the way of that. Pride's never done me any good."

"I won't. I promise, Bates." Robert's eyes turned sly. "And don't think I didn't notice your little slip up. 'I'm glad I wasn't here to meddle'. And even then, you must think I'm blind. I know they say men don't take notice of fashion, but I know for a fact that you're wearing the exact same clothes you went out in last night. So come on, spill. Where _have_ you been? You hooked up with a woman, didn't you? Bates, you old dog. I never thought you had it in you."

And here it was. The moment to tell his friend the truth was upon him. It had been almost cleansing to get it off his chest when he had spoken to Mary, and he had no doubt that he would feel even freer when he admitted the truth to Robert. This was it. The first step into the rest of his life, a life that was no longer governed by Vera. A life that he could face without fear, with the staunch love of the most amazing woman he had ever known right by his side.

John cleared his throat, gesturing to the seat that Robert had only just vacated. "All right. There's something I need to tell you, and I think you'd better sit down…"


End file.
